


A Taste of Honey

by Aerglo



Category: Transformers: Prime, Transformers: Rescue Bots
Genre: Established Relationship, Explicit Sexual Content, Friends to Lovers, How Do I Tag, Insecurity, M/M, Multiple Orgasms, Oral Sex, Slow Burn, Sneaking Around, Sneaky boys, Sticky Sexual Interfacing, valveplug
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-03
Updated: 2020-01-03
Packaged: 2021-02-26 02:00:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,004
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21655645
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aerglo/pseuds/Aerglo
Summary: Opportunities so rarely present themselves, it would be a shame not to take advantage.
Relationships: Blades/Bumblebee, Blades/Bumblebee (Transformers), Bumblebee/Blades
Comments: 2
Kudos: 32





	A Taste of Honey

**Author's Note:**

> Bad Bumblebee pun is bad. I am not sorry.

The initial fluttering of interest in the aerial was placed in Bumblebee's spark not too long after he had first traveled to Griffin Rock. Just a silly crush he had rationalized. Blades was the only other Cybertronian, with the exception of Smokescreen, that was around his own age. Surely that was as much depth as Bee's interest held in the rescue bot.

Come to think of it, initially the helicopter's enthusiasm was a bit discontenting. Misplaced. Wrapped up in an idea of who the scout was rather than who he truly was.

The hero.

The myth.

The legend.

Dani had stated that Blades was 'star struck' when they had first met and Blades' forgetting his own designation only drove home her point. However, over the years a lot had changed in their dynamic. They had come to regard one another as equals, as friends. Bumblebee truly enjoyed the company and looked forward to their visits. That was when the scout knew that maybe that seemingly forgotten and shallow crush held a little more credence. After a few awkward mishaps, dancing around the subject, the adverted optics and nervous laughs to ease the mounting tension...Bee said something.

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Blue optics cycled wider as they explored the familiar flight-frame lounging on the berth before him. From pedes to expansive white thighs, lingering a moment longer than was polite on codpiece, along the chassis, to the rotors swaying lazily at their owners sides, barely high enough to not scrape the ground beneath. They continued their journey up to the aerial's face and brightened ten fold as they locked onto honey colored optics with a cocked optic ridge. "Well?" Blades voice floated in the air between them. Not a hint of annoyance, but there was some playful chiding in his tone. Those optics were bearing down on Bumblebee's frame when the addressed didn't answer the copters question. 

_Oh slag..he was saying something._

The scout silently cursed himself for gawking and toning out his partner. He self consciously looked to his left with his frame bristling in embarrassment as he dumbly spat static and gestured wildly. Desperately trying to will his audials to recount what was just said so he didn't look like such a mesmerized buffoon.

Searching... Searching...

Bee's helm snapped forward, his HUD closing it's memory scan, when a light laugh filled his audials. Blades waved his servo dismissively, letting the scout know that the question hadn't really mattered. Bumblebee made a show of releasing a particularly exaggerated ex-vent, and wiping his servo across his forehelm just to see the copters face light up with amusement. He chuckled himself, but quieted down when he became aware that those captivating optics hadn't left his frame. If Bumblebee was being honest, the searching optics on him made him more than a little self conscious. Bumblebee had fought for as long as his processor was willing to recall. He had lost his voice box, been shot, blown up, you name it-- it had happened. His frame was a visual retelling of that; if you looked close enough. If you let servos wander along heaving chassis' among warm exvents...one could tell all the scars, the dents, the scrapes. So those optics that held the scout in such high regard roaming and lingering on him? Those optics felt penetrating. Invasive. He shouldn't want to recoil, it was irrational, he'd tell himself. Yet his servos would intertwine and he'd begin to wring them in a rare display of vulnerability. Honey toned optics cycled down and his brow knit into concern. Reaching out for the scout his EM field extending further to brush against the pensive autobot.

Both inviting and accepting. 

The movement was such a Blades thing to do, always so affectionate and accepting. Willing to give most things the benefit of the doubt the scout mused.

He reached out with his own field, allowing the two to warmly embrace one another before shifting closer to the physical embodiment of the affection. Blades murmured admiration and praise while his servos traced along the scrapes and dents that peppered the yellow finish. The black rally stripes were chipped and fading in spots and Blades allowed his caresses to stall on those spots. As if to tell him that he marveled in his 'imperfections' just as much as he did any other part of him. In spite of himself Bee let his optics close, a deep rumbling resonating in his chassis as the touches were replaced with soft kisses. Blades had been working on the scouts neck, thick toned cabling tensing and jumping when dentae grazed over him. There was a quiet snicker from somewhere just below his helm, kisses becoming more demanding along his chassis. Moving downward painfully, tantalizingly, slowly. Bumblebee bucked his hips up when he felt the other shift their weight to get lower on his body. 

He heard Blades tutting, and those lips left his body. Bee's vocalizer let out an all too juvenile whirling whine when he cycled his optics up to pout at his partner. Blades was between his thighs, one servo resting on his chassis and fixing him with a look full of promise. Bee was about to blip out a question until his optics caught the copters. Blades' optic ridge nudged upwards slightly and his optics became downcasted. Bee followed them and realized that they were leading to his cod piece. The scout gulped and heard his fans kick on in anticipation, an overenthusiastic response that he normally would have been embarrassed about but his frame was heating up far too quickly and his processor was swirling with ideas of what the copter had planned to give it much thought.

Blades' body mimicked the movement of his optics and he settled in between the scouts thighs. Vents warm and titillating mere inches away from his codpiece. Bee trilled and moved to place a servo on his berthmate's helm in what he hoped to be a clear invitation to continue. Stroking the side of the aerials face and using his thumb to caress up and down his finial. Blades ensured he had Bee's optics before sticking his glossa out to trace over a particularly sensitive seam on his interface array. Bee arched into the stimulus and gave his lecherous partner a whimper. He didn't exactly know what had gotten into Blades this cycle, he wasn't typically such a....

Another lick to that seam, more demanding with the reverberations of Blades humming only amplifying the agonizingly sweet feeling. Bee gasped and tightened his hold on the other's helm, keeping his face, and glossa, close to his array. 

_Tease._

_The word he was looking for was tease._

Bee willed himself to look down and saw that Blades had a smirk on his face, undoubtedly enjoying that he was revving up the scout so easily. Bee wanted to say something witty, or maybe something sexy? Sensual? The thought was abandoned when Blades resumed his ministrations and added two digits to the mix. The digits tracing circles right over Bumblebee's rapidly heating valve cover. Typically in their couplings Bee had Blades spread out for him and spiked him until he was senseless but if the coptor wanted to have at his valve? He'd be a fool not to let him.

Bee spread his legs wider giving the copter more room to work. Blades placed a particularly wet lingering kiss to the area that his spike was pressing harshly against. His plating felt too tight and entirely too warm under the aerials touch. 

"Well?" Blades trilled, his lower body shifting with his question.

Bee wondered if all of this was working him up just as much as it was him. Thinking the movement was simply Blades trying to ease the heat building between his own legs. How much heat was trapped between those wonderful thighs? How wet had he gotten simply teasing the scout? Was his callipers flexing and rippling in anticipation for him?

 _Right. The question._ Bee was bad with questions tonight it seemed.

Bumblebee, being a strong believer in actions speaking louder than words, let his spike pressurize. Blades hummed appreciatively and let his glossa trace the seams along it. Laving over the pulsing biolights, guiding the spike down his intake inch by inch. It was maddening. Bee bucked gently and whimpered, begging him to hurry up. There was something about knowing what awaited you that amplified the experience. When they first began Bee was...nervous. Nervous but excited. He hadn't really had any experience when it came to interfacing and wasn't entirely sure what to expect. Now, shamelessly writhing underneath the Rescue Bots touch, he knew all too well what to expect and was desperate for more. Blades touch and movements had been honed over their time together and he knew exactly what the scout liked.

He'd swirl his glossa around the tip of his spike, lightly sucking on it as he went, before guiding it's entirety down his intake. He'd move his helm back up along it's length and let it pop wetly from his mouth. Kiss the tip down to the base, use that talented glossa to drag static and energy from the base to the tip before taking him again. Within minutes Bee was a whimpering mess of gently gyrating against Blades and moaning out his designation. He took his servo back so that Blades could have as much space and control over the situation as he wanted, and honestly? If this was all they did he'd be more than sated. He'd reciprocate of course, but primus did the mech know how to work a spike. 

_A little too well. _He realized as he felt his overload rushing towards him.__

__  
_ _

Bee curled forward with a particularly loud whirring and Blades stopped abruptly. Removing himself from the spike still in his servo and fixing Bee was a concerned look. The movement and Blade's mouth no longer around his spike had his overload ebbing away from him just as quickly ad it had been encroaching. Bee titled the copters helm up and kissed his fore helm, muttering basic to him. Blades chuckled with the admiration being so freely given to him and made a move to sit up. Bee, reluctantly, let him move away. The orange and white heli-bot turned on his knees and gestured for the scout to come closer. Bee obliged, servo instinctively reaching for a space more comforting than sexual.

Blades while touched at the innocent gesture, guided his servo lower to warm modesty plating and the scout got the idea. Paneling folding away exposed a very well lubricated valve that bee found it difficult to look away from. He should be more couth in this circumstance but he couldn't help himself. Bee moved forward and traced the valve's plush lining with two digits before turning them slightly to enter him.

Blades moaned and rocked back against the scout. Despite how ready it seemed the copter was, Bee took his time to stretch and rediscover his lovers frame. Curling his digits to rack along sensitive sensors and to hear Blades keen for him. His touches were slow and deliberate, letting his digits drag along his inner chamber rather than ram into him.

Blades had teased him after all...it only seemed fair.

Clearly picking up on what Bee was doing Blades muttered something about payback and the scout giggled into his neck cabling as he rocked along with him. Trying to get his digits as deep in him as possible so he was adequately prepared. He wasn't a big mech, average size, but judging by their affairs and the salacious noises he could get from the copter it was more than enough. And now that Blades mentioned it, payback did sound quite nice. Why stop with a slow finger frag?

Now it was Blades' turn to be impatient and whimpering for him. He was rocking and canting his hips along the scouts digits and as his movements became more insistent Bee decided to just let the copter use him. He'd let him frag himself on his fingers until he was all but begging him for his spike.

Blades vents were becoming ragged and his movements became less coordinated and more desperate. Bee growled into his neck cabling and began grinding his hips subconsciously to match Blade's tandem. His processor captivated by watching him come undone and what marvelous things he'd get to do to him once he came down from his high.

Blades overloaded with a shout of Bee's name and stuttering hips as Bee's servo was covered in lubricant. Bee pumped his digits in and out of the still spasming valve before withdrawing them. He watched as Blades slumped forward and spit static through his stressed vocalizer. Letting it reset a handful of times before encroaching on the rescue bot. He whirled to him to get his hazy honey toned optics back on him and slowly licked his digits clean. Relishing in the sight of Blades biting his liplates as he cleaned his digits of the coptors lubricant. Bee leaned forward and swiped an open palmed servo along his valve ans Blades cried at the stimulus. He applied the lubricant to his throbbing spike and began sliding it through plush lips as Blades moaned.

How delightful. 

Bee softly kissed Blades' backstrut as he finally lined his spike up. He pushed gently and heard Blades suck in a big gust of air at the intrusion. Just like Blades had done to his spike, he slowly entered him inch by inch. There was a long drawn out whine of Primus' name when Bee finally hilted himself completely inside. The feeling of those callipers fluttering and adjusting around his spike was intoxicating and delirious. He stayed there, fully inside his partner, digits massaging along his hips just exventing. Blades moaned his designation and he tilted his head to show he was listening, the coptor cocking his own helm to the side to glare at his partner.

"Oh, so it's only fun when you do it, eh Blades?" He chortled full framed, his hips rocking slightly forward with the effort.

Blades huffed and turned his helm away from the scout rather dramatically in response.

Bee gave another laugh before finally acquiescing to his partner.He begins making shallow quick thrusts into the aerial, never quite fully filling him before he pulls away. Whatever annoyance may have been in the coptors frame quickly melted away with pleasure dancing through his senses. Bumblebee was bent over and laying flush against Blades’ back. Blades, for his part, has his back arched--aft up, rotors trembling slightly at the sensation. The room feels warm with their collective exventing, air is hazy around them. Bee mutters basic glyphs to him between nips to his neck, Blades moans back approvingly. Satisfied, Bee snakes his arms under Blades' chassis and gently urges him up. There is a disgruntled noise from the aerial, but a few peppered kisses along his back strut and he obliges.

He has him vertical, bodies pushed close together, plating flared and fans are working hard. Blades lets his head lull back to rest on the scout's shoulder and fixes him with lust blown optics. If Bee was ever asked, he'd swear there was a hint of a challenge there. Bee arches his optic devilishly and locks their lips into a searing kiss as he resumes his pace. Slow and shallow. Sensual. Never letting his spike be fully hilted in the others valve, knowing full well once he's fully inside him he won't be able to maintain his calm composure. Be it his age, the infrequency of these affairs, or simply how deliriously good the aeriel felt, experience has taught the scout that slow and steady was not a pace he was capable of sustaining.

Bee's hands wander over Blades’ frame, swirling nonsensically along his chassis appreciatively. His servos ghost over Blades’ trembling rotors earning a low rumbling moan from the copter. One servo rests on the medic's hip and he gingerly digs his fingers between flared plating to pinch and caress delicate protoform. Wanting to coax out as much pleasure as he possibly can, and judging by the breathless moan, he's on the right track. The other servo rests right above his cod piece- massaging over the raised surface where his spike is straining behind paneling. Bee wonders for a klick if he should ask Blades to pressurize or save it for another day. He did have another idea for his servos after all...

Not this time. It can wait.

Decision made he begins edging his way down to Blade's anterior node which he makes circles around before dipping two digits into his valve thrusting in tandem with his spike--grazing along delicate a new set of sensors. Blades optics shoot open wide, strangled whines and pleads roll off his glossa in increasing frequency. The copter is struggling to decide if he wants to cant his hips and grind along Bee's digits or arch back along his spike. There are incoherent moans and trills of pleasure from both autobots. The scout’s designation being repeated like a prayer. Bee removes his fingers and before Blades can complain at the loss of additional stimulation or the wonderful stretch, grinds his spike deeply within the rescue bot. Mouthing admiration and blissful exvents along his neck. Cocking his helm up to lick and nip along sensitive orange finials. His lubricated digits rubbing and applying gentle pressure on his anterior node. 

“Bee...” He groans, digging his own digits into the scouts hips in a desperate attempt to keep him as deeply buried in his valve as possible.

The scout moans in response, trying to abide by his lovers request, trying to get as close and deep as their bodies will allow. Blades’ helm dips forward and hangs there, mouth agape. His fans are sputtering in their attempt to cool his increasingly warm frame. 

Bee lets go of Blades’ hip and uses it to grab his shoulder--gently pushing the mech forward, while quietly murmuring to him to keep his own grip on the scout's hips. He grinds and maneuvers his hips best he can without forcing the copter to release him and hears a new type of intoxicating melody of pleads and moans come from his lips.

“Bee, gonna-” he manages to moan before he is rendered speechless with a particularly hard thrust.

“I know, me too” he hums, his own body attempting to curl around the prone frame quivering beneath him.

Blades rips one arm forward to support his upper body as he pushes his aft back onto Bee’s spike, grinding mercilessly into it to add charge to his impending overload. He’s a mess of whimpers and pleads, helm moving to the side to take in the look of the autobot scout’s pleasure stricken optics and the rare sight of the scouts mouth as it hangs open to allow more of the heat to escape his frame. He screams out his overload with the scout’s name and a praise to Primus. His partner enjoying watching him writhe with the aftershocks of pleasure while still chasing after his own release. It comes moments later with his voice sputtering static along whirls and blips. Hips still moving insatiably into that wonderful valve as the last waves of transfluid leave his frame and deposit into his partner. He groans and makes a few last half sparked thrusts into Blades earning small noises from the exhausted medic before removing himself. 

His servos graze appreciatively along Blades’ aft as he rocks back onto his knees. He takes in a few ragged vents in a futile attempt to cool his over taxed and over heated frame. Taking note that the delicate rotors that adorn Blades’ back are fluttering. A movement that he's come to know means that the copter is in a state of bliss. And it is in this moment that he decides...the opportunities are far and few between for their couplings. The cons being a constant thorn in his T-cog, and Griffin Rock being in a seemingly constant state of crisis.

The scouts’s blue optics cycle wide in mischief and he beeps soothingly to his partner as servos brush along quavering rotors. Blades makes a small unintelligible noise in return and attempts a movement to peek at the scout. He doesn’t get the chance as Bumblebee’s on his abdomen, face between quivering white thighs. He places a kiss along the inner white plating and again beeps and trills to Blades.

“You okay?” he mouths along one of the rescue bots inner thighs, letting his warm exvents wash over the plating teasingly.

“Yes,” he replies, barely louder than a whisper with his face nuzzled into the soft bedding of the berth.

The mischief in those blue optics amplifies and he traces his glossa along the delicate over-stimulated folds of Blades' valve. A gasp, and his face is firmly in the blankets as he’s attempting to ride Bee’s face. Bee, bless his spark, encourages it by gingerly grabbing the coptor's hips and helping him move and grind against him. The scout makes quick work of the rescue bot by laving over his valve. Relishing in the noises it draws out of the copter and letting his glossa enter and curl inside him to fully taste the debauchery of the evening. Blades props himself up on an elbow as his other servo is placed palm flat on the berth, giving him extra leverage to maneuver his hips as his second overload shakes his entire frame. A curse is bit off as it hisses through gritted dentea with his helm falling to the berth. In the aftershocks he rides the scouts’s face lazily before he allows his thighs to release their vice-like hold on the autobot and Blades begins to flip over onto his back to face the other.

Bee’s back on his knees overlooking Blades’ frame--memorizing the pleasure in his cloudy optics and how his body keens when the scout gets closer. Bee chuckles softly at the movement before laying along side him and entangling their bodies. Scrapped and scuffed servos rub soothingly over seemingly untouched beautiful white and orange plating. Blades’ labored exvents against his chassis and neck cabling are setting his sensors aflame, latching onto the closeness of having the other near. His libido thinking it's an invitation for another round causing his spike to twitch in interest. He elects to pay it no mind. He's effectively exhausted the medic and he's sated--despite what his spike thinks. 

After all, they both know that their time was drawing thin. The only way they've been able to pull nights like this off were when Heatwave was on night patrol. Blades told Bee about one of their first nights on earth how Blades and Boulder had sneaked out of the Fire House and had caused quite a ruckus with a lion and some lemurs. The whole thing seemed rather humorous to the scout, but the helicopter explained that leaving the base--let alone getting someone in--was difficult after that. Heatwave had become vigilant to the teams coming and goings. No 'share time' needed. Bumblebee recalled thinking of an Earth saying when Blades had originally told him the story. Something about sneaky small creatures only coming out to play when feline house pets were away.

 _Fitting._ The scout quipped to himself.

Oh well, the leader of Sigma-17 wouldn't be back for a few more hours. The SIC had left the base with Chief Burns hours ago on a call. Blades had assured him that under normal circumstances Boulder recharged heavily and wouldn't notice. He would especially be preoccupied tonight helping Graham with 'mid-terms'.

_Good._

Emergencies, and Primus, willing the pair could steal just a bit more time before they had to return to their own lives. A few more caresses, soft voices tinged with laughter, and a light recharge in one another's arms seemed the perfect use of it.

**Author's Note:**

>   
>  I wanted Bee/Blades smut...so I wrote Bee/Blades smut. Am I completely satisfied with it? Debatable! But I didn't want Archive to delete my draft...so here you go!  
> They're cute and seem to be rather under the radar. I was attempting to do this with as minimal dialogue as possible to see if i could rely on other senses to set the tone and atmosphere of the story. Please leave kudos and comments!


End file.
